Sex and censorship

January 7th, 2010 § 0

Okay. Have been spending the whole day reading about censorship and surveilance and about regulation of the internet. Still trying to cull something from more than 8000 words to 3000 words. Sigh..

Let me attempt to summarise what I’ve learnt here, and figure out my key argument for the M’sian case (which is the weak point of the paper right now).

ONI’s thesis on censorship, 3 levels:
1) “Brute” and overt. Static, easily noticed and increasingly easy to be circumvented. I.e. filtering (and data retention) at choke points (ISPs) on keywords and blacklists. E.g. “Great firewall of China”
2) Random and covert – happens at critical moments in the country’s political context (e.g. elections). Just in time. a) Technical – DDos attacks, hiring of patriotic hackers, harder to trace, harder to circumvent. Looks like normal network error. Dynamic b) Laws & norms – Use of norms and punitive measures to create a culture of self-censorship. Laws are used to enforce norms. Not necessarily ICT related laws (e.g. defamation, libel etc – sounds familiar?)
3) Subtle and discursive – using tactics of confusion, misinformation and information overload (not “credible” but adds to the discourse) to disable mobilising power of ICTs. I.e. using its nature to shape the discourse, the information. To see “cyberspace” as a military resource, and to invest in its development the same way as e.g. weapons. Back full circle it seems hey? With a bit of KGB thrown in. Also international coorperation and surveillance techniques (always aided by technologies – Lessig, Code 2.0) critical in its successful deployment (also applies in 2)

Heike’s thesis:
1) The nation-state is an imaginary concept of cohesive and mutually referencing identity. The role of the nation-state is to police this boundary, to maintain its rigidity (note to self: imperviousity: virus, migration, dirt and civilisation, imageries and symbols). Gendered order (heterosexual, hegemonic masculinity, race, body) is critical in the construction of these binaries
2) Web 2.0 – interactive, everyone is producer of discourse, self-authorship, everyone is potential receiver. Potential to disrupt gender order through transgressive sexualities – pornography, consumption, erotica (nts: Foucault – madness and civilisation, punishment – spectacle. Butler – performativity). Policing is critical. (WHY)
3) Censorship when understood through a woman’s reality, is much more about social censorship (violence, norms, economic inequalities – first set of barriers) than state censorship (second set of barrier). I.e. by principle, focussing on just the state is at minimum, epistemelogically unsound. Second, it explains a lot about ONI level 2 & 3 censorship phases even works. (STILL WHY)

Lessig Code 2.0:
1) Programming (code) is an important determinant of C & S (or the kind of “free and open” or “closely regulated” internet we have) – TCP/IP’s simplicity and openness (invisible man – anonymity) was designed, and commercial interests have layered all kinds of technology on this both app-based and infrastructure-based to show that it is really right now, a very regulate-able space.

2) Anonymity shattered:

a) Who – IP > ISP. Identity layer on TCP/IP designed by M$ (like the black box, “wallet” format idea being developed by EU to “protect privacy” – is M$ a partner in this?)
b) What – packet inspection. Now also packet inspection. Cookies.
c) Where – IP geo-tracing

Malaysia research (WHO and WHERE and WHAT and HOW)

Here’s where it gets tricky. Only now I’ve figured out what the M’sian research needs to answer.

1) CONTEXTUALISING (or proving?) WHY: The primary role of race relations in shaping all layers of the idea of nation. And race relations is often defined through marriage (where forcible change of identity is not just enacted by norms, but also by law). Sexuality at the core of this. Who, how many, when do you get put in jail for it etc. Policing of sexuality gets hysterical responses when transgressions threaten (lelaki lembut, Fatine, polygamy). Transgressive sexuality also used as a political weapon to discredit and dismantle – Anwar, Soil Leck, Eli etc. (is there an increase since Anwar?). Point: making the link/proof between sexuality, gendered hierarchies, ideas of citizenship (hierarchised) and the nation.

2) ROLE OF C & S IN THIS (HOW?): – Censorship is the platform for this to happen? Regulation of speech, information, bodies? Has it changed since mass adoption of the internet? What does it take? What has been used? Examples. Also reverberates with ONI’s level 2 – explains it?

3) WHERE: Challenges ideas of privacy. What kinds of spaces or debates when this kicks off – March 8 GE, Perak takeover, Katagender Fatwa project – all involved with sexuality, race relations, religion, citizenship – all tied together. Technology’s role in this. What is censored, how is it done, what is the role of technology in this, and the role of law, include surveillance. What about women’s rights sites being taken down? Subtle – not sure how it happens. Not helped by social censorship – technical know-how divested externally.

4) NATION VS INTERNATIONAL: Additional construction of self through orientalisation|mirrorisation of the “global other”. Malaysia truly Asia. Mahathir’s West vs Asian. Mahathirs’ “Vision 2020″ MSC rooted firmly in the developing world as a leader, whilst bending over backwards in subsidiaries and concession to court international expertise (temporary only understand?) and investment. This is a play of hegemonic masculinities. My prick may be small now, but it will be bigger than yours in a few winks. Why? Cause we can control our women better than you can! So we have better morals! Fuck this shit.

5) C & S (WHAT): It polices sexual boundaries. Sexual boundaries polices gendered boundaries. Gendered boundaries polices hegemonic masculinities. Hegemonic masculinities polices the nation state. The nation state policies idea of the “global”.

The “SO WHAT”? I don’t know la. Can’t think anymore. But I think I should have enough to hammer it out… esok.

A fresh page

January 5th, 2010 § 0

I’m determined to start the new year with something. Not sure what, but a kind of change. So I’m rebuilding my blog.

I used to take time to sit down, and spread out the threads of experience onto the familiar livejournal interface. [shift]+[/] and a window pops up, ready to absorb whatever inanity that’s crossed my path. It wasn’t anything life changing, or theories or thoughts that could disrupt the world. Or even good poetry. But it was my space. And it was the only record that I have of who I was, the moment I inhabited, and it was frankly, quite good fun.

So here goes, another attempt.

I was expecting a spectacular sunset on 31 Dec. The setting was kinda perfect. Clear sunny skies, the horizon in front of my eyes, breaking sky and sea with a silver glittering line. But it wasn’t especially spectacular. Turns out my non-expert eyes were not quick enough to spot a thick branch of clouds hanging in the distance. So the sun disappeared without much call for attention. In pieces, behind an undistinguished body of something. But the moon was very, very round, and lit up everything so it looked like twilight till well after midnight. I think its face has changed somewhat. Used to wink more, and now it just looks more like a malevolent grin.

Everything kept changing colour everyday. The tide rising and falling changed the colour of the sea, from steely indigo to smooth green to childish clear turquoise to soft skin and everything in between. The monsoon clouds and determined sun coloured and streaked the sky as they liked.

Turns out 1 Jan had the most amazing day sky, no sunset or sunrise to speak of, but a gray confluence of persistent rain, light and heavy. And 2 Jan had the most amazing night sky. Completely black, to the point where the horizon disappeared and the sea and sky was just one thick drape of darkness. And when the moon rose from behind the small hill, fingers of light creeped up and grew like a white aurora.

I also realised I couldn’t see all the stars. I could only see a few close ones in my flawed retina, with halos and leaky brightness shivering them into pinpoints of existence. Definitely have to go for that eye surgery.

Lessons? Hmm.

Drama is unreliable. Cliches can only disappoint. Magic takes time to unfold. Don’t trust what you can only see.

I think I loved tide out more than in. I saw a green sea slug fly between rocks and dead corals. I didn’t know slugs could fly.

12 Nov 09

November 12th, 2009 § 0

Thinking of you pa.

Good weekend

July 26th, 2009 § 0

Read, cycled, listened, tarot, spoke, ate, read, painted. Good weekend.

Cat pee-ed everywhere. Malaysia suffers another loss. Sad weekend.

Tomorrow: must finish writing. must finish writing. must finish writing.

Off day

June 22nd, 2009 § 0

The men are performing in the streets
They are dancing
with wires in their coat
frozen in time
Like a shot in a familiar film
from another space and time

I am not here
my eyes are dulled and edged with fear
of dipping across a wrong line
My legs feel heavy with guilt at every step
for beating a pulse
without an echo

I steal a glance at my companions
each with their heart that frames another face
in another space
and I wonder how they seem to shuffle time
as though
the faces hold no iron
As though they are completely free
As though

I am performing on the street
Dancing with wires in my coat
Frozen in time.

Toni – 1 year

June 4th, 2009 § 0

Strings of words have come into my head
that are almost like psalms about you.
If you knew, you’d probably laugh.
It’s funny isn’t it?
If the people who made decrees were wise,
you would be canonised -
Saint Toni;
In my dyslexia, i wrote Satin Toni -
maybe you would have preferred that more.

I keep bumping into moments when I wished you were around
There are so many questions still;
So many moments when I am shaky, and lazy,
and I knew that if only I could have 5 minutes
with your voice on the telephone
pressed close to my ears,
or a quick chat next to the photocopy machine,
or the time that it takes for rings from sweaty glass mugs
to stain the table
as you weave your stories into parables;
Everything will make sense again,
the fire will have new light, my small feet
ready for fight, for flight,
It might even be called hope.

There are so many things that you
would have been proud of;
So many changes that maybe,
you wouldn’t be surprised at,
since you always knew the might of seeds.
I keep bumping into moments when I wished you were around.

Today there is a meeting that you would have gone for,
where I would go, with two-thirds of the reason
being just to catch up with you, have a huge hug with you.
But I will still be there. And so will you.
In so many ways.
Every single person you have spent time with,
have you in them.
Like magic. Or witchcraft.
Or common sense.
It’s been a year, and I still keep bumping into you.
It makes me smile.
And it makes me sad.
It makes me write weird psalms about you in my head.
It makes me breakdance with hope and ache.

Miss you Toni. Miss you a lot.

Praktis

May 14th, 2009 § 0

There are a lot of things that puzzle me that I simply have no time to unravel. The automatic choice of the word “unravel” puzzles me. As though puzzles were a series of interlocking question marks that have been kicked about, gnawed and crocheted by a barrel of unhappy cats.

Black, Perak and Ghandi. To be frank.. I am tired of it all. I’m pretty sure I’m meant to be excited. To feel some kind of fire bubbling over inside me. The compelling force of outrage and quest for justice in the shape of democracy. It is exciting. Everyday, twitter is like a cliff-hanger, waiting to see what happens next. Who’s going to bring who to which imagined higher body over which clause and sentence under which law. It is extremely exciting to wait and see when the queer theory idea of the ludicrous will bring the house down. It’s almost funny. Hysterical. But I guess it can only be funny when you are a spectator and not one of the actors. By force or choice or by simple accident.

I lost my train of thought. And started thinking about mirrors. About two sides of a dirty 10 sen coin. Palmed from person to person. It can get so black that only McDonald’s chilli sauce is able to stain it clean.

Ran out of words again for today.

Another rainy Sunday evening

March 29th, 2009 § 0

It’s been awhile since I wrote. It’s been awhile since I heard the sound of my own voice. I’m sure it has been speaking. I’m sure it has been commenting on the insensibility and ludicrousness of the world. I’m sure it has been writing epic poetry to match the dirty yellow thunderstorms that meet the daily aching sun of late.

But I have been struggling to hear its words. They are inarticulate, like middle of the night speech bubbles. The only shapes they have are of emotive intonations. Sometimes a stream of question marks, sometimes abrupt strings of full stops, sometimes rising into exclamation marks, sometimes merely commas unending…

I’ve been listening to Cohen a lot recently. It makes me think of old comic books, like The Preacher and Sandman. Struggles with the mythology and morals of an angry, suffering, beautifully arrogant and mysterious God.

I recently said my only religion is feminism. It doesn’t make sense actually. I used to believe in God. I used to believe in mercy and kindness and retribution. Sin and light. I used to pray so much I would fall asleep curved, with my forehead touching my knees. I don’t think I muttered my sleep then. My nights were quiet conversations worthy of chapters in a holy book. Flaming swords, exorcism, words that shine with the fire of its own soul. I don’t have those kinds of dreams anymore.

It’s raining right now. The whole world has a grey, rusty watery skin, and the uneven tarred roads are pocked with millions of angry silver craters. Their footsteps are almost drowning out the sentences that are swarming all around me. I saw a spike of lightning on my way here, white and ultraviolet, slicing the indeterminate sky with its sudden clarity. For a moment, I wondered if it touched anything. A singular tree in an open field invades my mind. I live in a world of cinematic cliches.

And so quickly, the storm is losing its fervour. The thunder is beginning to sound like grumbles rather than apocalyptic statements. The wind has changed direction and my laptop is getting wet. Time to go.

toni kasim

June 6th, 2008 § 0

i can’t remember the first time i met you. it seems as though you have always been present, with a huge breathtaking hug and a smile that just knocks all doubts away. how can the world begin to spell the loss of you? i just saw a video in tribute to you. and you are there, speaking, your voice sounding just like how it always is, strong, questioning, challenging, always with a hint of a laugh underneath. i cannot remember the sound of your laughter, and that really hurts me.

do you know just how much you are loved? do you know how beautiful you are, in your presence, in your life, in everything that you do and touch and see? you are like the heart of a ripple, imperceptible and humble in your constant agitation of complacency. and we have not yet seen the end of those ripples you have caused. change upon change. awakening upon awakening. you inspire.

everytime i have the chance of having a conversation with you, i leave a fuller person. did you know you do that to people? you make me feel with earth under my feet, you make me think with the tireless spinning of webs inside my head, forming question marks that are sparked by fire, pushing me to act, however small my hands and feet, they can move and make and break and create. after each conversation, you make me believe that.

when i was drowning myself in a sea full of guilt and inadequacy, for not doing more, for not giving more, you were always so light and honest in your appreciation, all scales fall away and dissolve into resolve. it doesn’t matter. what matters is everything that is, and everything that could possibly be. humility. you teach me humility.

and you have opened me to a kind of love i did not realise is possible. without lines, without trade, without spaces. you are so wise. you are so sharp. you dance in the waves of cheeky laughter. you are truly, someone the world was not prepared to deserve. and is not prepared to lose.

there is an absence that a century of grieving could not shadow the form of exactly how deep, how much we have lost. all i know is i miss you so much. an insensible craving that cannot begin to grasp the fact that you are gone. with love toni. you are a magical blessing.

an indescribable loss

June 4th, 2008 § 0


tahlil for toni kasim tonight (wed) at 7pm, at mosque near subang old airport. mosque has no name but apparently you jst do a 3 o’clock at the roundabout and you’ll see it. should last from maghrib to isya’. it’s not exactly a multi-faith ceremony but friends of all faiths are welcome to be in the mosque compound to remember her in everyone’s unique way. do pass the message on.

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